


Shepard's Omni-Tool

by oOAchilliaOo



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 19:47:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6128116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oOAchilliaOo/pseuds/oOAchilliaOo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aboard the SR1 Shepard’s Omni-Tool keeps breaking…… and there’s only one person she trusts to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shepard's Omni-Tool

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" was the first thing he heard her yell as he stepped into her office to give her the weekly report. 

"Er... Commander?" he said, uncertain if he should salute or beat a hasty retreat. She looked up at him and for some reason that he couldn't identify looked ...relieved?

"You. Yes. Brilliant. Perfect" she said. 

"Commander?" he repeated, starting to wonder if the stress of tracking down Saren was causing her to have a psychotic break of some kind.

"What omni-tool are you using?" she asked abruptly. 

"The Logic Arrest IV," he replied instantly, automatically moving to stand at parade rest. 

But he was still confused, for primarily two reasons; one, she surely should have known that since she'd bought it for him and two, why was she even asking?

Her brows knitted in confusion. "But that's what I’m using," she said.

"Is there a problem, Commander?" he asked after a moment. It seemed a safe option and had the added bonus of perhaps leading her towards some sort of point.

She held up her left arm, the orange glow of her omni-tool sputtering around it.

"It's not working properly," she growled.

"Let me see." He crossed the cabin, gently grasped her wrist and brought it towards him before setting a standard diagnostic running. 

Moments later, the diagnostic completed only to inform him that her hard drive was riddled with corrupted out-of-date metadata, streamed copies of useless articles and had a whole variety of sub process running simultaneously.

No freaking wonder it wasn't working.

He could feel her eyes on him as he worked, cleaning up the hard drive, but didn't dare raise his own eyes to meet them. Mostly because with him knelt before her chair, gently holding her outstretched arm, their faces were close enough together that if he met her eyes and saw something other than detached professionalism or curiosity... If he saw even a hint of kindness, or trust, or that odd look that she sometimes got in her eyes when she looked at him that he hadn't quite managed to identify yet, he might do something he'd regret. Like the thing he'd wanted to do ever since he'd met her. Somehow he didn't think that kissing his commanding officer was a particularly wise career move.

"Shepard, have you ever cleaned up this hard-drive?" he asked instead, partially to distract himself and partially out of genuine curiosity.

"Uhhh... sure," she said, settling herself back in her chair. A moment passed. "Once, maybe?" she added in a murmur. He was so surprised that he raised his eyes to meet hers without thinking, and the mischievous twinkle he saw in them immediately set his heart racing in his chest. 

He cleared his throat to cover and returned his attention to her omni-tool. It was safer that way. 

"You need to do it at least once a month, Shepard," he told her. 

"Yes Sir," she replied sarcastically. He huffed a snort of laughter as he finished cleaning the hard drive and let go of her arm.

"There you go," he said. "It should be better now." She booted it up and tapped out a few things.

"Thanks," she said. "Report."

A month or two later, she found him at his duty station.

"Something you need, Commander?" he asked as she approached. She thrust her arm out at him.

"It's doing it again," was all she said. 

The third time she didn't even ask. She just fell into the seat next to him in the mess hall and waved her arm in front of his face. 

The fourth time she called him to her office.

And the fifth.

And the sixth.

"Let me guess, your 'tool's busted," he said, entering her office for the seventh time.

"Got it in one, LT," she said, cheerfully gesturing for him to come and take his usual seat beside her. He sighed and pulled her arm towards him.

"You know, you could learn to do this yourself," he muttered as he began closing the unnecessary files that were taking virtually all of the processing power. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her smile at him. 

"But then what would I need you for?" she said.

"I can do other things too," he pointed out. "Like shoot things."

"True," she said. "But we do that with the other people... this is just for us." 

He swung his head round sharply, his eyes meeting hers. It surely wasn't possible that she was... that she wanted... was it?

She only smiled at him again. 

"Besides," she added. "There's no-one I trust more to keep it running.” 

And he never mentioned her sorting it out for herself again.


End file.
